St Valentine's Luck
by Taliahah
Summary: Annie Walker has never been blessed with St. Valentine's Day luck - and there is someone else who seems to share exactly her same luck on the Day of Love.


This was not how she had expected to spend Valentine's Day, leaning over a railing looking down at the Olympic panorama below. But when Joan had asked her to go as another pair of eyes on the ground, paired up with a newer male agent, she could hardly say no. It was about as close to a paid vacation as she could hope for - unless,of course, as many believed, the odds were good that the Games would be marred by a terrorist attack of some kind. But at present, all was quiet - this was actually the thickest crowd she had been in, and for security's sake, they had separated as Andy went to get them some hot beverages against the chill. Well, at least I'm with a guy and we have to pretend to be a couple. That's hardly worse than some of my Valentine's Days, Annie thought. She had always had abysmal luck on the much-heralded Day of Love, and she didn't want to look too close at her memories - many of them of simply not being in a relationship at all on the day, interspersed with an awkwardly timed breakup on one Valentine's Day, a horribly sad proposal from someone she could never accept on another, and a few other varied romantic disasters. In Russia it was still a new holiday, at least for its secular aspect of being dedicated to lovers and not to the saints - though at least he was still a saint to the Orthodox, having lost that title in the Catholic Church. In Russia it was easy to believe that many were dressing for the holiday - warm bright red snowgear seemed to be popular. Her own coat was cinnamon-candy red with a fur-edge hood, and she'd put on black boots, giving her a stereotyped Russian look.

Annie glanced back at the line for beverages. Andy was about halfway through it. She turned back to watching the milling people below.

"Fascinating people watching in Sochi, isn't it?"

That voice. She turned in happy shock. "What on earth are you doing here?" Eyal Lavin was standing by her, thoroughly bundled up as she was, clutching a steaming cup. "I suspect much the same as you. Extra eyes on the ground." he said very softly. "Unless you know something?"  
"The same."  
"Good."  
"On your own?"  
"Paired off. He's in the drinks line. You?"  
"The same. Ladies' room line." Annie felt herself shift. He was here with a woman? He chuckled slightly, immediately aware of her brief flash of ... she'd call it - oh, never mind any euphemism, it was jealousy. "Where I hope she remains for a while longer," he continued. "Any Valentine's Night plans?"  
She shot him a look. "Ah, seems not. Fortunately, for us both, it's not a big holiday here. No one will look askance if we fail to drape our companions in roses and chocolate. Just as well. The day has never matched its hopes for me."  
"I was thinking that a few minutes ago. Never for you? What about when you were married?"  
"Timing is everything. When things were good between us, I was constantly away on the date. When things were bad, unfortunately, I wasn't."  
"I'm sorry, Eyal."  
He shrugged. which she observed out of the corner of her eye. From behind, no one would think they were even talking, a space maintained between their bodies. "But I find it astounding that you don't have a fine collection of Valentine's memories, however."  
"We must have the same kind of Valentine's Day luck, for better or worse."  
"Since we find ourselves standing here today, I would have to agree. But there are other things I'd like to share with you for better or worse," he added, smiling. He took a sip of his cup. "Actually, Annie, at present this is already qualifying as my best Valentine's Day ever." She had been thinking almost the same thought - what were the odds of being thrown together in Sochi? After so many holidays where they had similarly found themselves together - in most cases without attempting to be. Though she suspected him on a couple of coincidences, there were others she knew were purely the actions of Fate. Or his word, Kismet.  
"I have to agree with you on that," she laughed, wishing she could bump against him, slide an arm around him, do something.  
"Is that charming fur hood keeping you warm? It becomes you very well," he added. He looked dashing in a black overcoat, a fur hat giving him a Cossack air, and a silvery grey cashmere scarf. Even if they could touch, there would be almost no "touching" involved, they were so padded against the cold. They had both half-turned toward each other, as many millimeters as they could allow, and the look in his eyes was warmer than her fur hood. He held her glance and raised the cup to his lips, drinking slowly, with great apparent pleasure, never taking his eyes from her for an instant. she thought of the lyrics of the old Elizabethan song, "...drink to me only with thine eyes ..." He moved the cup away from his beautiful sensual lips, smiling at her, speaking softly but she was so tuned to the richness of his voice, she could hear him perfectly. "If I could be the cup of love from which you could always drink your fill, I would be. If there's even a chance that it could ever be, drink this for me." He kept his eyes locked to hers and touched the cup back to his lips for an instant, then very obviously turned the place where his lips had rested on the rim toward her and put it on the railing. Annie took the cup up to her lips, pressing against the spot, keeping his eyes locked on hers, tasting a bit of him on the rim, followed by the flood of hot chocolate and vodka in her mouth. "Sweet, strong, and dark," she said. "This is a very good cup, Eyal."  
"I am very glad you find it so, neshema," he said to her, and the word warmed her better than the chocolate. She put the cup back on the railing and he retrieved it.

Just in time, as Andy was now pushing in on the other side. "What a line!" he said. There was the slightest of pressures on her opposite side, the briefest of caresses as she knew Eyal was dissolving into the crowd. "At least this part is crowded," she said, "The Games are so poorly attended."

"They were out of hot chocolate," Andy said. "I got hot pear cider instead."  
"That's perfect," she said, pleased it was not what she had just shared with Eyal. She turned her back to the railing as if surveying the crowd behind them. Eyal had done his usual disappearing trick - but no, wait, as if her eyes were attached to him by some secret string she could spot his shoulder, then his hat, for brief glimpses as he moved through the crowd. He can't disappear like that from me any more, she realized. Where he goes, I will know, and she realized it was not a string leading from her eyes to him, but between their hearts.  
It really was her best Valentine's Day.

_**Author's Note: Thanks to bouc101 for encouraging me to do a "shortie" for Valentine's Day! And thanks to everyone who reviews or direct messages - it's wonderful hearing from you all!**_


End file.
